Read 1984 - Hit Them Where it Hurts for Free Online Page B

don’t. I’m looking for him. I was told you moved into this pad within a couple of hours of him moving out. I thought he might have tipped you off this pad was coming vacant, and you might know where I can find him.’
    ‘Is it straight that I get that money?’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Brother! Can I use money right now!’
    ‘Give out, and you get it. Did he tip you he was leaving?’
    ‘No, but I heard pretty smart. I have friends here and there, though I never got along with Terry.’
    To help her to become more outgiving, I unfolded the hundred-dollar bill, regarded it, then refolded it.
    ‘You don’t know where I can find Terry Zeigler?’
    ‘Is he in trouble? He kinda left in a hurry. Scared maybe?’
    ‘I’d say not. Someone has left him money, and it’s my job to find him and give him the money.’
    Her eyes widened.
    ‘How much?’
    ‘I wouldn’t know. It’s not peanuts.’ I smiled at her. ‘Do you or don’t you know where I can find Terry?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘No, Buster. I don’t know. Imagine that odd guy coming into money! Oh, how I wish someone would leave me some money!’
    Was this going to be another dead-end, I wondered.
    ‘What makes you say Terry is an odd guy?’
    ‘I only met him a couple of times. He never opened his mouth. He just stared at me as if I was something he had stepped in on the sidewalk. He certainly played a hot piano. If you ask me, I guess he was either crazy or doped.’
    ‘Do you think he’s a junkie, Dolly?’
    ‘How the hell do I know? Most of the finks around here are on the needle. That’s something I leave alone. I’ve got to earn money.’
    I leaned forward and gave her the hundred-dollar bill.
    ‘Well, thanks. You’ve been helpful,’ I said.
    ‘There is one more thing. Does Hank Smedley often visit you?’
    She reared back as if I had hit her, then jumped to her feet. Her face was the colour of a soiled sheet.
    ‘Get out!’ she screamed. ‘I’ve had enough of you! Get out.’
    In my twenty-odd years as an operator, I have seen frightened faces, but none so frightened as this trembling, wretched little whore. Frightened? No, rather terrified.
    I left her clutching the bill, shaking; I knew there was nothing more I could get from her.
    I rode down in the creaking elevator and walked to where I had parked my car.
    Back in my office, I found Bill at his desk, chewing gum and rereading my report.
    I told him what I had got from Dolly.
    ‘Look, Dirk, I’m not with you. Why the interest in Terry Thorsen? We’re supposed to. . .’
    ‘Sure,’ I broke in, ‘but we have no real leads. I have a hunch that Terry could put us right. I want to find him and talk to him.’
    ‘Shouldn’t we concentrate on Hank Smedley?’
    ‘I want to find Terry first.’
    He shrugged.
    ‘Well, OK, you’re the boss. So now what?’
    ‘For you, home, and forget all this. For me, I’m adding to my report, then home and early to bed. Alone.’
    ‘You OK, Dirk?’
    ‘Go home!’ and I waved him away.
    As I opened the front door that had been fitted with two new locks, the keys to which I found in my mailbox, a smell of fresh paint greeted me. The graffiti had been painted over, and my home was back to normal.
    What a girl! I thought, as I shut and locked the door. I telephoned the Bellevue Hotel only to be told that Suzy was handling an insurge of tourists and wouldn’t be available for at least two hours, so I couldn’t even thank her.
    The following morning, I was at my desk early.
    I was just finishing my report when Bill came in.
    ‘Sleep well?’ he asked, but he knew better than to expect an answer.
    ‘I want you to trace an Olds. PC10001. I want it fast, and in depth.’
    ‘Right.’
    He took off. Bill had now almost as many contacts in the city as I had, and very usefully he was a buddy with the officer in charge of car registration.
    I finished my report, filed it, then went along to Glenda Kerry’s office. She had just come in and was